


Scenarios

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Comment Fic 2016 [8]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Austen-land AU, Civilian AU, College AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 13:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7053526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Stargate Atlantis, Any, running a theme resort."</p><p>In which Elizabeth Weir runs an Austen-land theme resort, and the boys play her suitors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenarios

“Farewell, Captain Sheppard,” the woman said, fluttering her eyelashes.  
  
John had probably already forgotten her name, but he took her hand and bent over it, brushed his lips against her knuckles, and she giggled. “And to you, dear lady.”  
  
Evan closed the door behind her, and they all listened, waited, for her to be fully out of earshot.  
  
There was the sound of horse hooves clopping - Stackhouse was the coachman today, and he’d be dropping the last guest off at the front gates of Atlantea.  
  
When the horse hooves faded, Evan heaved a sigh of relief. He reached up and loosened his cravat, rolled his head like his neck was sore.  
  
“Finally, she’s gone. Why do you have to be so charming, Shep?”  
  
“Because he wants to eat something other than ramen while he’s in grad school.” Rodney, who’d been sitting bolt upright in one of the overstuffed armchairs near the fireplace, slumped back with a happy, contented sigh.  
  
John was already working on the buttons of his red officer’s jacket, shrugging it off with a groan. “Put out the fire already, Lorne, jeez!”  
  
Evan flashed him an obscene gesture. “Bite me. Last customer’s gone. I’m not the butler anymore. Do it yourself. I have a date with a bottle of wine, a blank canvas, and a naked woman.” And he was out the cast member door before anyone else could blink.  
  
“Seriously, though,” Elizabeth said, kicking off her ridiculous high heels. “Could you turn it down a little?”  
  
“You’re supposed to be the equivalent of Lady Catherine De Burgh,” John pointed out. “Couldn’t you turn up the mean a little more?”  
  
“And make them cry and never come back? No.” Elizabeth reached up and tugged off her heavy gray-haired wig. “I want them to come back and bring their friends. Bring all their friends. Also, I meant the temperature.”  
  
“Rodney,” Carson said, “you’re supposed to be Mr. Darcy. You need to woo them more.” He went to check the fireplace, fiddled with the dial, and the flames settled down.  
  
“Hey, I danced with her at your stupid ball.” Rodney glared. “Besides, I had to cover one of Zelenka’s undergrad physics classes yesterday. That lady was lucky I wasn’t making it glaringly obvious that the person John goes home with at the end of the night is me.”  
  
John yanked off his ridiculous knee-high boots and his thick socks and wiggled his toes with childish glee. He was disarmingly cute when he was barefoot, even if he looked like a reject from an Austen novel. Rodney would be glad when they’d both had the chance to get home and shower. The amount of product John had to shellac into his hair to keep it laying flat so it looked even remotely period-appropriate was ridiculous. It was a good thing none of the ladies tried to touch it, because it was practically a helmet.  
  
“When are we on next?” John asked.  
  
Elizabeth fished her smartphone out of her beaded little clutch purse. “Tomorrow is a Sense & Sensibility scenario.”  
  
Jack O’Neill was a retired Air Force colonel who was a surprisingly enthusiastic thespian, and the ladies loved his silver-fox portrayal of a Colonel Brandon-esque suitor, all poetry and flowers.  
  
John groaned. “And who’s on call to be the Willoughby guy?”  
  
“You,” Elizabeth said. “Daniel’s playing Ferrars. Our guest is playing Marianne, so Sam will be playing Elinor.”  
  
“I thought Evan was on call to be Willoughby,” John said.  
  
Elizabeth squinted at her phone. “Nope. You.”  
  
“Well,” John said, “if I have to flirt with ladies all day tomorrow, too, I guess I’ll have to have lots and lots of sex with my favorite man tonight to help me cope.”  
  
“TMI, thanks,” Carson said, wincing.  
  
“Whatever,” Rodney snapped. “You know you’d totally hit this.” He gestured to himself for emphasis.  
  
“If I didn’t think John would kick my arse if I tried,” Carson murmured, and Rodney blinked.  
  
John smiled, reached out, and offered Rodney a hand. “Would you accompany me, good sir?”  
  
Rodney smacked him on the arm. “Keep it this century, Romeo.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Go on, get out of here. Richard and I will lock up. See you tomorrow, John.”  
  
John and Rodney waved their farewells, and then they were out the cast member door and into the green room. They shed their costumes and left them for housekeeping to manage, and then they piled into John’s thoroughly modern sports car and headed for home.  
  
Once they’d both showered and had some thankfully not-ramen for dinner, Rodney said, “I don’t feel like grading pop quizzes.”  
  
“Shouldn’t have sprung one on Zelenka’s class, then.” John was sitting on his side of the bed, laptop propped up on his knees, squinting at a formula that was beyond even Rodney.  
  
“I want to do something fun,” Rodney said.  
  
John raised his eyebrows but didn’t look up. “Fun?”  
  
“Costume fun,” Rodney said.  
  
John sighed. “Costumes? Really? We do that all day, though.”  
  
Rodney reached into the closet and drew out what looked like an ordinary blue and grey windbreaker. “Space soldiers, John.”  
  
That made John look up. He had a ridiculous military fetish. “Tell me more.” It was why he played the Captain Wickham role in the Pride & Prejudice scenario.  
  
“Two words: thigh holster.”  
  
John was on his feet in a flash. “Show me.”  
  
Hours later, they were sweaty and sated on the floor of their ‘puddle jumper’, cuddled up and breathless.  
  
“A stable wormhole? Really?” Rodney demanded. “That’s terrible physics.”  
  
“I was in the moment, okay?” John pressed a kiss to Rodney’s brow. “I like the scenario, though. What about next time?”  
  
“Next time I’ll rescue you when the Wraith have captured you, all right?”  
  
“...You just want to see me tied up, don’t you?”  
  
“...Maybe.”  
  
“You’re on. Dr. McKay.”  
  
“Any time, Colonel Sheppard.”


End file.
